"Junior Brother Yunfan,

To see these words is to see my face. Last night, while observing the stars, I saw the Wei Su constellation setting in the west. I suspect that Master is facing an obstacle in Qingzhou, one he cannot escape. He will surely need some help.

The Daqian have now conquered the Seven States of Yanbei. The Nine Radiance Sect only protects its own gates, while the Great Zhou Government Office turns a blind eye, caught up in its own power struggles.

I am not going for the sake of the common good. I am going only to fulfill a personal duty. Without Master, I, a beggar boy on a snowy night forty-five years ago, would have long since become food for wild dogs. Without him pouring his heart and soul into reforging my body, how could there be a Fu Jin in this world?"

A damp mark suddenly bloomed on the paper, as if the writer had paused there.

Xu Yunfan’s fingertips brushed over the crease. He remembered when Fu Jin first joined the sect, how he’d clung to Zhan Yan’s arm and wailed, saying that Divine Weapon Ridge finally had a successor. Though Zhan Yan would scold and hit Fu Jin, their bond was deep and true.

"...I still remember my first lesson from Master. He ordered me to watch the fire in the Forging Furnace for three months. He said, ’A breath’s difference in heat, a weapon’s third-rate defeat,’ yet when I collapsed from a high fever, he used his Red Flood Dragon Force to expel the heat poison from my body. Thinking back on it now, the burn scars on his palms are all from that year, when he protected my heart meridian."

The edge of the letter suddenly curled up, revealing fine, frayed fibers. Xu Yunfan tapped it lightly with the handle of a hammer, and half a sheet of scorched, yellowed paper drifted out from a hidden layer—it was Zhan Yan’s handwritten response to a disciple’s pledge from thirty years ago.

In crooked, childish handwriting, it said: "I wish to forge iron for Master until the end of his days."

But Zhan Yan had circled it and commented with a Vermilion Pen: "Foolish child, it should be ’forge swords and give them an edge’."

"In the third cellar compartment of the Weapon Casting Hall, there are seventeen of Master’s Broken Swords. I carved the character for ’Jin’ into the notch of each one—marks left when he pulled back his moves during practice, for fear of harming me. I was a fool, making Master exhaust himself for countless days to get me where I am today. If I had even a fraction of your talent, Junior Brother, Master would not have aged so much. If I cannot find him this time..."

Here, the ink strokes suddenly turned sharp, cutting through three layers of Xuan paper.

"I will shatter the Twelve Peaks of Yanbei and scour the Earth Veins of Qingzhou! Even if I must burn all my Red Flood Dragon blood, I will find news of our Master!"

"From now on, all matters of the Weapon Casting Hall are yours to manage. You are Master’s hope, Junior Brother. Do not be idle; you must cultivate diligently. Consider it a way to continue the lineage of the Celestial Craft Cave, the Weapon Casting Hall, and Divine Weapon Ridge...

If it is difficult to return from this journey, then I will not return."

The final signature was not Fu Jin’s usual Star Pattern Seal, but a personal seal with the character for "Father" that Zhan Yan had taught him to carve years ago.

Counting the years, his master, Zhan Yan, was over eighty-seven this year.

Xu Yunfan stared at the letter for a long time. It was not until the sun was high in the sky that he dazedly raised his head and looked at the disciple who had been waiting patiently by his side.

"I know you. You’re Senior Brother Fu’s disciple, Fu Li?"

He recalled Fu Jin saying that Fu Li had good talent. Fu Jin had found him as an abandoned infant on the road back to Celestial Craft Cave from Cui Bo City in Cangzhou. Fu Jin had truly raised the boy himself, through thick and thin.

"Yes, Junior Martial Uncle Xu. When Master gave me this letter for you, he ordered me to obey your every command."

Fu Li’s eyes were a little red. The memory of Fu Jin’s hurried departure last night was still vivid in his mind.

"You may go for now. All affairs in the Weapon Casting Hall will continue as usual. We’ll talk more when your master returns... If anything difficult to decide comes up, come find me immediately. And if you have any questions about Martial Arts or weapon forging, come straight to me."

"Yes!"

Fu Li first agreed, then added, "Junior Martial Uncle, in two days, the Weapon Casting Hall will be taking in new disciples. You’ll need to go and see them..."

"Just call me when it’s time."

After Fu Li left, Xu Yunfan carefully folded the letter and put it away. He went inside and placed it in a drawer under his desk. If he kept it on his person, a surge of Strength during a fight could easily shred it.

This letter was, in effect, a final testament entrusting him with the care of his family.

A significant portion of it was dedicated to admonishing him not to be lazy and to cultivate diligently.

’Senior Brother, oh, Senior Brother, you’ve really left me with a huge problem.’

Xu Yunfan let out a breath. The letter had almost made him want to leave the Sect and search for Fu Jin, but the last part had tied him down with the affairs of the Weapon Casting Hall. If he left too,

then the hearts of the people in the Weapon Casting Hall would truly scatter.

Fu Li was still young, only seventeen or eighteen, and just a Second Level Martial Artist. He couldn’t possibly manage the bigger picture. Only Xu Yunfan, with his reputation as a genius who could kill a Flesh Refining Realm expert while in the Outer Three Harmonies Realm, could suppress those with ulterior motives.

His explosive kill of Bao Yan from the Hidden Blade Pavilion had shaken many people.

Although Bao Yan’s strength was lacking, he was still at the Half-Step Blood Exchange level.

He needed to grow stronger quickly to deal with the increasingly difficult situations to come.

The Great Zhou had completely fallen into chaos.

-----------------

「Yanbei Dao, Beiliang City of Youzhou.」 Only Shuozhou separated it from the Nine Radiance Sect in Jiuyao State.

As the northern winds blowing from the distant mountains, carrying the scent of rust, slapped against the city bricks, the lookouts on Bei Liang’s walls saw a squirming shadow on the horizon.

Thirty thousand suits of Dragon Scale Armor reflected the morning sun at once, spreading a shimmering, bloody light across the plains. The clang of armor plates, carried by the thunderous tremor of the ground, drowned out the warning sound of the Copper Bell on the city wall.

"ENEMY ATTACK!!!"

With a piercing shriek, a sentry on the wall fired a Cloud-Piercing Arrow into the sky. The whistle of the arrow instantly echoed throughout the city.

The crenellations of the Bei Liang City Wall trembled.

As the torrent of Iron Armor crushed its way across the Moat, the Iron-covered gate of Bei Liang’s South Gate let out a dying groan.

The moment eight hundred javelins tore through the morning mist, the City Defense Crossbowmen witnessed a sight they would never forget.

The Eagle Scouts’ bare right arms were knotted with muscle. The instant the Fine Steel Javelins left their hands, the shafts actually creaked as the immense force threatened to splinter the wood fibers.

When the spearheads pierced the Iron-Clad Shields, the Bei Liang Martial Masters holding them were thrown back three steps, and the Blood Beads seeping from the webs of their thumbs bloomed like red plums on the shield faces.

As Tuoba Lie’s war boots shattered the first stone slab of the river crossing, Bei Liang City’s Captain, Zhao Duanghai, known as the Northern Gun King, was twisting his waist on the battlements, thrusting his spear.

The Ten-foot Iron Spear transformed into a cold star aimed straight for the throat, but a Meteorite Iron Battleaxe swung up from below and struck the shaft.

The two immense forces collided. With a RIP, the sleeves on Zhao Duanghai’s arms burst apart, revealing the blue veins on his forearms, which pulsed like living snakes.

The spear shaft bent into an arc with a grating screech. Tuoba Lie suddenly spun, twisting his hips, and swung his Battle Axe in a revolving chop. The axe blade scraped a three-foot-long trail of sparks from the city wall’s bricks.

Just then, the gate of the barbican let out a final, dying groan.

As four bare-chested Warriors pulled back a battering ram, their back muscles tensed like steel plates. When the iron-covered ram struck the gate’s hinge for the third time, the strongest Warrior let out a sudden roar, the veins in his neck bulging like earthworms.

Amidst the sharp CRACK of the breaking door hinge, his own spine emitted a creak, unable to bear the strain. Yet he remained in his lunging, mountain-pushing stance until the city gate collapsed with a thunderous CRASH. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"Arrowhead!"

Tuoba Lie’s voice was like rolling thunder.

The front rank of Heavy Armored Infantry braced their shoulders against their shields, the muscles in their legs bulging. As the triangular formation of Tower Shields crashed into the Bei Liang City army’s blade line, the clang of metal was mixed with the sharp snap of breaking shin bones.

A Warrior wielding twin halberds burst through a gap in the shield wall. The blades of his halberds locked onto two sabers and twisted violently. The Cangzhou Martial Master’s wrists instantly bent backward at an unnatural angle, splinters from the saber hilts trickling from between his fingers.

(There will be another Chapter later)